Karma's a
by ROSSELLA1
Summary: Ed Singer's pulled out of line by the King of Hell.


Karma's a…

By ROSSELLA1

Note: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. Spoilers for 7x22. 

Ed Singer had been in Hell for thousands of years and had yet to really regret any of the actions that had led him there. He had gone there when it was under the operation of a Lucifer (Alistair, actually, seeing as Lucifer was presumably locked up in some distant corner of Hell and could only give orders to demons and hope they were followed. After one round of torture, he had given in. It had taken only a week for him to lose his humanity and become a full-fledged demon. Hell still had been Hell; trapped in a fiery pit, locked away from everything good, could never be fun. But it had been bearable. He had been the one doing the torturing and any demon foolish enough to try and harm him was quickly dealt with. Every once in a while, he even got to go up to Earth to seal a deal with some idjit, stupid enough to trade his or her soul for fame, fortune, sex, or all three. And then Crowley had taken over and everything had changed. Instead of getting to torture souls, the souls were forced to wait in lines. Worse, for some reason the King of Hell refused to justify, he had Ed wait in line with the rest of the souls. Not to torment them. Not to make sure that they stayed in line. Just, apparently for the sake of standing there. It could be worse; He could be strapped to a table with another demon standing over him. Still, he was relieved when the King of Hell arrived in person, saying that he needed Ed's help with a new arrival. His glee at finally being able to torture again only increased when he was led into a room full of torture devices and saw that its sole occupant was his no good son, who had murdered him. But then, there was a crack and Ed found himself strapped down to a gurney, looking up at the faces of the King of Hell and Bobby.

"What the Hell?" He snarled at the King.

"I told you, Ed. I need your help with a new arrival." Crowley tilted his head towards the younger Mr. Singer. "Robert, here, just crossed and I thought I'd give him a 'welcome to your new home' present. "

"Hate to break it to you, Crowley," Bobby groused, "but you suck at giving gifts. I never wanted to see this piece of shit ever again!"

"Darling," Crowley pouted, "I'm hurt! You think I brought him here for a family reunion? I brought him here as a gift! As in, he's yours and you can do whatever you want with him!" The King gestured around the room. "I thought the décor would give it away."

Bobby glanced around and narrowed his eyes. "Now, wait just a damn minute! I'm not dealing out your punishments for you!"

Crowley shrugged. "Never said you had to. I just thought that you might want to deal with this one in particular. After all the beatings he gave you, it seems a shame to let him get off with a simple bullet wound."

The younger Singer's eyes widened again. "The Hell you know about that?"

"I'm the King of Hell, Love." Crowley stated, as if it was obvious. "I know all my prisoners' dirty little secrets."

"So, you want to use this one to manipulate me into doing your bidding? Ain't happening!"

Ed scoffed. "You see? That pussy doesn't have the balls to hurt a fly!"

Bobby turned to look at his father in cold anger. Then, he gave a humorless chuckle and picked a serrated knife up off of a hook on the wall. "Oh, I don't know about that, Dad. I had the balls to send you down here in the first place!"

Now it was Ed's turn to laugh. "You think getting shot was anything compared to being here under Alistair? Trust me, son. You can't do anything to me that I can't handle.

"Well, of course he can't now." Crowley rolled his eyes. "But don't worry. I'm going to teach him everything I know."

Ed experienced a moment of uncertainty. Then he regained his confidence. Waiting in lines was no picnic, but honestly? The King of Hell and the best torture Crowley could come up with was lines? "Oh, I'll tough it out. Somehow, I think 'all you know' isn't- ow!" He hissed as Bobby plunged a knife into his side. "That stung!"

"Did it ever occur to you that it might not be a good idea to taunt the King of Hell?" Bobby snapped.

"Getting protective, are we love?" Crowley smirked.

"Shut up, you idjit!" Bobby threw over his shoulder. "After I'm done takin' care of him, I'm not torturing anyone else.

"Never said you had to, love." The King of Hell replied in an innocent tone. "Now," Crowley turned to Bobby. "Let's start with the basics." He picked up a knife. "You want to start out with something painful but not too painful. The finger tips are actually the most sensitive parts of the body. That's why paper cuts hurt so damn much. A good torture session is never complete without doing something to the fingers."

"Like this?" Bobby replied, using his own knife to slice across the tips of his father's fingers, causing Ed to hiss.

"Exactly!" Crowley beamed, and mirrored the motion on Ed's other hand. "These won't make him beg for mercy, but it'll hurt like Hell; like a migraine that never goes away. They'll keep him on edge. Now, the general idea is to start small and build your way up so that one thing adds onto another. Go on, give it a go." Bobby kept back for a moment, as if uncertain of what he wanted to do, then jabbed the knife into his father's opposite side, and glanced up at Crowley, seeking approval. "Excellent, love! We'll make a proper demon out of you in no time!" Bobby glared at him. "Or not." Crowley shrugged, as if it made no difference to him. "Now, let's try an area that's a bit more sensitive."

"Like where?"

"Why don't you try stabbing him in the stomach? See, what happens."

Bobby shrugged and did as Crowley suggested, causing Ed to cry out in pain, as the knife went into him and the stomach acid ate at the cut. "Nice." Bobby commented. "Wouldn't've thought that would do much. Down here in Hell I mean."

Crowley grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Oh, trust me, darling. Things down here are just as…intense as they are up there."

Bobby gave an uncomfortable cough and looked away. "Yeah…so, what do we do next?"

"Well, I was thinking that we could…"

Ed closed his eyes, as he tuned the rest of the conversation out. It was quickly becoming clear that the new King of Hell was much more formidable than he had originally thought, and Ed was not looking forward to the next couple of…days? Years? Eons? There was no way to be sure. But one thing was for certain; Ed was starting to wish he had lived a better life.


End file.
